


Falling

by rexisnotyourwriter



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Carrying, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-25 08:55:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7526425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rexisnotyourwriter/pseuds/rexisnotyourwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Person A has a major headache and Person B is carrying A upstairs, occasionally pretending to drop them, only to immediately grab them again. B then says something stupidly romantic like “I’d never let you go” and then accidentally smacks A against the stair rails.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling

“I can walk.  I’m fine.”

Ellie tried to bring herself to her feet to prove it, only to pause halfway and sit back down on the couch.  Her head was throbbing and spinning, like someone had put it in the dryer with a bunch of rocks and screws that kept poking her eyes.  

Hardy stood in front of her, hands on hips.  

She was waiting for his snarky comment; he was waiting for her to stop lying.  

Ellie blinked to get the room into focus.  It wasn’t working.  She let out a frustrated groan under her breath, fingers gripping the edge of the couch cushion.  

“Okay,” she mumbled.

“Okay, what?” Hardy asked.

He wasn’t trying very hard to hide his smugness, earning him a slightly squinted glare from her.  

“Well if you’re just going to be a wanker about it-”

She tried to get up again, this time making it to her feet for a moment before stumbling into Hardy, her hands on his chest, his firm on her shoulders.  She had knocked over her cup of tea on the process.

“Shit.”

“It’s fine.  I’ll clean it up,” he said; he kept his voice soft so as not to aggravate her migraine.  

“I just need to make it upstairs.”

Fred was in bed already, and Tom was at a friend’s.  She had just enough time to put Fred down before the pain really started.  Hardy had happened to come by to pick up his scarf that he’d left in her car earlier that day and insisted on staying when he realized she was unwell.  

Ellie leaned on him to steady herself and tried to walk towards the stairs, barely shuffling her feet.  She had to stop every half step for fear she’d pass out or get sick.  

“Will you just-”

“What?  I’m already letting you help,” she snapped at him.

The sharpness of her voice only worsened the pain.

“Oh, god,” she muttered, bringing a hand to her head.

“That’s it.”

In one fell swoop, Hardy lifted Ellie off the ground, her legs swung over his arm, torso safely cradled in the other.

“What are you-”

“Shhhh.  Fred’s sleeping,” he countered.

She grumbled, but didn’t struggle, as he carried her up the stairs.  On the second step he let his arms drop.  

Ellie gasped.  

Hardy snickered.

“That’s not funny.”

“Alright, I’m sorry.  Won’t do it again.”

Three steps later he broke his word.

“I’m going to punch you.”

“You can barely walk, Miller, let alone swing a punch.”

She mumbled an unintelligible threat which only provided more amusement to Hardy.

“If you let me go one more time, I swear-”

“I’ll never let you go.  Promise.”

Hardy didn’t hear the words until they had already left his mouth.  His ears felt flush and was grateful for the dark of the staircase as they reached the second floor.  He waited for her to say something while simultaneously praying she would stay silent.  

“Good,” she said.  

He smiled.  

He started to turn the corner to the bedroom.

Smack.

“Ffffffff-”

Ellie started to curse but remembered Fred was sleeping just across the hall.

“Fuck.”

Hardy finished it for her, but in a panicked whisper.

The initial sensation was painless, a numb shock running through her brain - then the throbbing intensified.  

“Sorry, sorry, we’re almost there.”

Hardy’s pace quickened into the bedroom.  His eyes were adjusted well enough to the dark to see the bed without having to turn the light on.  Hardy crouched down and slid the covers aside with his fingers while still holding Ellie up.  When he lowered her down into the bed he noticed that her hands had moved around his neck while he had been fixing the blanket.  They were warm, and the edge of her thumb grazed his ear as she let go.  

“Do you need anything?”

“A new head?”

He chuckled softly.

“Afraid mine’s not much good,” he said.

“Yeah, not sure I could pull the beard off,” she joked.  “No, I’m fine.  Really.  Thank you.”

He nodded awkwardly and turned to go.

“Night, Miller.”

His arms felt empty as he walked back down the stairs where a spilled cup of tea was waiting for him.


End file.
